This chapter only has two characters- Harry and Draco. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not my characters.

Warning: Language and whatnot.

I'm very blunt today.

_o-O-o_

A couple of extremely awkward hours later found the two of them in their rather large bedroom, discussing who their possible caster(s, as Harry added) could be. It seemed to be the only topic they could talk about without things quickly getting awkward. They sat on the large bed ("One bed?" Harry had questioned, only to have Draco snarkily deadpan, "Yes, Potter, because two beds would be so logical."), Draco sprawled out and laying down with his head on a pillow, and Harry at the end of the bed sitting cross-legged; the pair of them attached by their feet.

Admittedly, Harry really wished they wouldn't stay connected by their feet anymore. He knew that it was definitely very wise to do so in this situation- so that they didn't have to be seated next to each other- but there was just one slight problem that his mind kept honing in on. Draco had a habit of constantly curling his toes and moving his foot against his own. And the awkward mental note that kept popping up shouting 'footsies!' over and over every time the blonde shifted against him was really, really distracting him from the conversation.

Despite this, however, they had come up with a decent list of people who hated both of them. Though all of them were out ruled on account of them already being in Azkaban. They also ruled out the grand scheme of the public who hated Draco, on account of the fact they all adored Harry. And all Harry's enemies were accounted for in the list that hated both of them. They tried thinking of common enemies within the school, but they really only came up with Filch, who hates everyone. And he seemed rather unlikely to curse either of them seeing as he was a Squib.

"Maybe it was someone just looking for a joke." Harry frowned, completely shot out of suspect ideas.

Draco sat up and leaned back on his hands, narrowing his gaze. "That's one sick bastard."

"It could have been Peeves. He always likes a laugh, and he's quite sick about it most times," Harry said in agreement, and began picking at another loose thread in the black comforter of the bed. Draco watched him, his expression falling slowly to anger.

Draco picked up the foot which was not linked to Harry and kicked his hand away from the thread. "Stop that."

Harry looked addled for a moment. "Why does that bother you?" he asked out of pure curiosity.

"Fuck if I know. Everything you do is annoying."

Pointedly, Harry resumed plucking at the fiber. Draco kicked him in the chest, effectively knocking him over.

"Ugh, what time is it?" Draco asked, changing the subject before Harry could complain. "I'm starving."

Harry glared at him, disgruntled. "Well, we haven't eaten at all today." As he said it, his own stomach made itself known with a loud growl. "I think it's past lunch hour, but they'll still serve food if you want."

"In the Great Hall? Are you joking?" Draco was appalled at the suggestion, lifting their joined feet as if it were evidence. "Walk around like this?"

"Draco, we already walked through half of the castle already-"

"That was during class!" Draco protested, "I know at least six people who have a free period right now!"

Dropping his shoulders, Harry pointed out, "We'll have to face them sometime. If not today, then definitely tomorrow in class."

Draco sat up straight, "I'll take my poison later, rather than now." Harry could only figure.

"You're such a Slytherin." He commented rudely. Draco hardened.

"Proud to be one, too. We're smart. What if they happen to find whomever cursed us over night? Then we'll have shown ourselves in public when we didn't need to." He leaned in deliberately, spitting harshly, "That's not a form of blackmail I'd like, thanks."

"No, you're just a coward."

Harry seemed to have said the absolutely worst thing he could judging by the way Draco sat leaned in to grab the cotton pajama shirt over his chest, pulling Harry until they were inches apart. Harry honestly had to admit that, in this moment, that threatening scowl did frighten him.

Only a little.

"Better than being a brain-dead Gryffindor." He said through his teeth menacingly.

Feeling his Gryffindor pride bubbling in his chest, he bravely smirked, "That line would be so much more effective if I hadn't had Hermione by my side for eight years."

Draco was obviously at loss for a retort for that one. He dropped his expression, eyes boring into Harry's all the while. It became evident that they were far too close to each other, so Draco dropped Harry's shirt and sat back.

Harry pursed his lips, trying a new method. "Fine, then. Where do you expect we eat?"

Draco paused for a moment. "...There's a kitchen." He offered.

Harry dropped his jaw in utter disbelief. "Honestly? You are going to make yourself something to eat?"

Draco glared at him, his lips pursed dangerously. He cracked them open to spew, "For you information, Potter, I have grown up eating the best cuisine offered by the Wizarding World. Not only that, but I am an expert in putting ingredients together to make something worthwhile, judging by my top grades in every Potions class I have ever taken. I doubt it will be that difficult to put together a simple lunch."

Harry snorted, lifting an eyebrow and deadpanning, "I doubt you'll find Flobberworm Mucus a decent ingredient in stew."

Draco fumed, literally jumping off of the bed; Harry's foot still well attached to his own. The blonde, as though ready, braced himself for the tug to keep himself from falling to the floor. Much like how Harry had just landed brutally on his backside on the rough carpet.

"Shit- Goddammit-" Harry sputtered while Draco continued walking in a strange, but proud, limp, dragging the Gryffindor with him out into the living room. Harry finally managed to grab the leg to the blonde's trousers to both yank himself upward and unstable Draco's footing. Draco only wobbled a bit before continuing his journey.

Harry's foot was soon taken from underneath him, so he quickly grabbed a hold of Draco's shoulder to steady himself again. He willingly let his foot follow Draco's to land on the floor, but forgot that he had to lift his other foot to move forward with him. He ended up having to do a little hopping about as Draco once again lifted their linked feet.

Suddenly remembering Madame Pomfrey's wise words about choosing where they could be connected, Harry shifted the hand on Draco's clothed shoulder to the nearest patch of skin he could find- which just so happened to be the side of his pale neck.

It worked; as soon as the connection found a new place to be linked Harry's foot was once again his own to command. Though the sudden change broke Draco's stride as Harry's hand now restricted him from moving forward. He let out a yelp at the tug against his skin.

"'The fuck would you grab my neck for, Potter?" Draco asked him, still stumbling a little.

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, getting obvious amusement from Draco's pain. "I panicked."

Draco scoffed at him, grabbing the hand at his neck with his own and removing it. He promptly dragged Harry the rest of the way to the kitchen.

Which should not have been a problem for Harry, because they were not holding hands. Absolutely not. They were just two boys who have been cursed so that they have to be touching in some way or another, and who chose the easiest method of travel by simply resting their hands in each others. Holding hands would mean they were doing it by choice. So Harry was not blushing.

Draco stood in the kitchen, looking around at all of the cabinets and drawers. It dawned on Harry now that he wasn't even sure if there was any food in here. Experimentally, Draco opened up one of the cabinets to show a very wide variety of snacks, all presentably filled and unopened, though nothing to make a lunch out of. A healthy one, at least.

Draco began rummaging through cabinets for ingredients, pulling out various random foods at will. Harry furrowed his eyebrows at some of the items, wondering how Draco was planning to cook a whole turkey, and moreover where the bird had even come from as it seemed slightly too big to fit in the black wood cabinets. Harry guessed some form of magic was involved to make them bigger, as well as keep everything in it chilled.

"Are you planning to eat the entire bird?" Harry humored, chuckling to himself. Draco's gray eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching tightly.

"Obviously not," The blonde slowly let his gaze drop to the bird, "I was going to proportion it, dumbarse." He added matter-of-factly.

Harry picked up a jar in his free hand, holding it outward and admiring it, "So you were planning on basting it with peanut butter, then?"

Draco flushed brightly. He snatched the jar from Harry's outstretched hand, quickly throwing it back into a random cabinet. "I was just spit-balling ideas. I'm not using all of this stuff."

"Good to hear, because I don't quite know if cabbage and orange marmalade go all that well together-"

"Okay, you know what, Scarhead?" The blonde snapped at him, a hand place precariously on his waist, "Why don't you make us lunch then out of this stuff. Something high class enough to suit my tastes."

Harry scoffed at him, "I was planning on making my own lunch, thank you."

"Well, good luck with that." Draco spat sarcastically, "I bet it will turn out really satisfying."

Rolling his eyes, Harry began to open cabinets. "Unlike you, I don't need five star quality dining to satisfy me." He pulled out simple ingredients for a ham sandwich, only looking a little awkward for having to use his left arm. As he finished, he noticed Draco staring at him with a very hard face. Harry smirked, an eyebrow raised lightly.

Noticing Harry's smirk, the blonde turned back to his own fixings, eyeing them as though trying to figure what he could make of it, and- more importantly- how he could do it. Harry was positive Draco had never had to cook a meal for himself before in his life; always having the luxury of a house elf at his will.

Harry, on the other hand, was pretty good at cooking simple things. A few times his Aunt Petunia ordered him to continue dinner for her while she left to do some other mundane chore, or spy on the neighbors. He also had wisely watched her make certain easy things on the off chance Harry was left home alone with nothing readymade for him. And sandwiches were pretty self explanator-

Draco had suddenly flinched away from Harry, pulling their joined hands so that only a couple of fingers held the connection. It took Harry a moment to put the pieces together- Draco's horrified face, the way their fingers alternated in their connection as though if he were to push forward they would be...

Draco had stopped Harry from intertwining their hands again.

Harry reddened, gaping at the blonde, trying to let his lips form an explanation he hadn't worked out yet. He snapped his jaw shut tightly and averting his gaze before asking, "Why do we keep doing that?" very quietly to himself.

"'We'?" Draco asked him, appalled that he would ever be even considered to have initiated that. "If I recall correctly, you're the one who was trying to rape my hand."

Harry raged, turning back toward the blonde, "I was not trying to rape your hand, Malfoy. I didn't even know I was doing it-"

"Sure you didn't."

"Yes, Malfoy, because I have totally fancy holding your hand." Harry scrutinized, adding quickly, "And who's to say it wasn't you the first time?"

The blonde grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer threateningly, "You're the one who wouldn't stop the goddamn rubbing-"

"Malfoy, it's the fucking spell, alright?" Harry yelled back, pulling his face closer so that they were inches apart.

"The spell doesn't include playing footsie for an entire hour, Potter."

"You were the one moving your foot, Malfoy!"

"No I-"Draco froze, his eyebrows furrowing through his scowl for a full moment. "No I wasn't!" he muttered lamely, darting his gaze from Harry as though he was trying to convince himself of this fact.

Harry was right about to press this issue when something to his right caught his eye. His eyes widened, seeing Draco's hand squeezing his own almost possessively, in what should have been a very painful manner. But it wasn't painful. Why wasn't it painful?

Because it was actually pleasurable.

In fact, Harry had to resist the urge to squeeze back. Their hands were emitting a mild version of that amazing, blissful feeling from earlier. But it was still near impossible for Harry to let go.

He coughed into his other hand, trying to get Malfoy to notice. But the blonde seemed quite lost in thought. It took a very sharp "Malfoy!" to get his attention.

"What?" Draco had snapped at him bitterly. Harry awkwardly nodded his head in the direction of their intertwined hands.

Draco had flinched when he saw it. He went deathly red.

They stood like that for a few awkward moments. Harry could tell that Draco was debating whether to pull his hand away or not.

"I think-..." Harry cut himself off at the murderous look Draco had sent him. He swallowed harshly and continued, "I think we should stop fighting it." The blonde looked like he really wanted to protest this, so Harry explained. "Look, I don't mean like, all the time or anything, but I think the harder we try not to the harder it will be to, er, not."

Silver eyes rolling, Draco commented, "You have a way with words, Potter."

"Malfoy-"

"Fine, Potter." Draco shushed him, "To be honest- and as much as I'll deny it later- I know what you mean. Well, I would have if you had said that sentence in proper English, anyway."

Harry nodded at him, feeling that's as much of an agreement as he'll get from the Slytherin.

"And," continued Draco, "no one else sees this. Got it?" Harry scoffed.

"Out of all of this, you're only worried about your reputation."

"Unlike some slayers-of-Dark-Lords, I have to work to keep my reputation alive."

"Fine," Harry steered the conversation back away from that kind of topic. "No one else sees this."

Draco eyed him suspiciously, "Well don't sound too depressed, Potter."

"I'm not depressed!" Harry defended himself, "You're just giving me a headache-"

A blonde eyebrow popped, "Am I causing you physical pain? What a pity."

Exasperated, Harry began making his sandwich with one hand, pointedly ignoring the blonde.

"Are you ignoring me now? Good strategy. I'm sure it will work." Harry managed to open the twist tie awkwardly. "Say Potter," the blonde rested against the countertop, "Did you know your hair looks like a raccoon is nesting in it? I mean, honestly, have you even heard of a comb?" Harry continued working with his teeth clenched around his tongue to keep from spitting back at him. "You would think someone of your stature in the public eye would know to care about the way his own hair falls. I've heard of teased hair before, but I believe you're the first to style it tortur- AHH!"

Harry had summoned a knife from behind the blonde wordlessly, sending it zooming right past an outstretched arm. Harry caught the knife coolly, making a show of cutting his sandwich diagonally and placing it down on the counter carefully.

In this window of opportunity, Draco managed to snatch a slice away from the Gryffindor.

"Oi!" Harry called after him, but the blonde had already sunken his teeth into it. "What the hell Malfoy? What happened to your bloody turkey?"

Malfoy chewed the sandwich thoroughly, "That would take too long. And I'm starving."

"So make your own sandwich!"

"Why should I do that when there was a perfectly made one right in front of me?" Draco stated simply, his prestigious aura hardly faltering. "Honestly, you'd think you'd understand you were dealing with a Slytherin here."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fine, Malfoy." Harry suddenly looked up at the blonde, a smirk playing at his lips, "Though you did just admit that I made a perfect sandwich."

Draco opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. He narrowed his eyes menacingly, "It's called 'politics', Potter. I was making a point."

Harry continued to smirk to himself, picking up his half of the sandwich. "And in politics you have to follow through with your words, or else others will use them against you."

Draco chose to ignore this, "Look, are you going to make more of these or not? Half of a sandwich is hardly a lunch."

_o-O-o_

"I'm bored." Harry commented dully. The pair of them had decided on settling in the sitting area after lunch. After the blonde made it clear that he did not want to continue mulling over who their caster was, as they had already spent hours going around in circles about it earlier, Harry settled on thinking it over by himself while Draco found a book to read from the large bookshelf.

To be honest, it hadn't gotten him anywhere.

"Good for you," Draco drawled, obviously very involved with his book. Harry made a noise of frustration, definitely not in the mood to be around the Slytherin anymore. Well, ever actually, but especially not now.

"Can we please go down for dinner?" Harry finally whined.

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon, Potter. Dinner hour starts at five." He idly turned a page in his book.

Harry groaned, leaning his head back on the sofa. "You're horrible company."

Draco glared at him, finally prying his eyes off of the book. "Only because you don't know how to hold a decent conversation."

Harry brought his arm up to rub his face, forgetting that Malfoy was connected to him with his foot touching his forearm. It slid down to his elbow. "It's actually because you don't know how to be a decent human being for five seconds." Draco yanked his foot back down so that Harry's hand flew away from his face.

"You don't deserve my decency, Potter."

Harry nearly growled back at him, because honestly you would think defeating the man who was holding him hostage would win him decency points. Apparently not.

But under an unspoken policy of logic it was clear that both of them decided to put the war under the rug for the time being. It was a really touchy subject for both of them, and Harry wasn't certain talking about it now while they were stuck together like this would come to a very reasonable outcome.

Harry got the feeling that Draco was thinking along the same lines as him, and decided to skip around the subject, "If you're really that bored you can give me a foot massage." He slid his foot up into Harry's hand.

"Urg!" Harry scrunched up his face and let the foot slip down his arm again. "That's nasty, Malfoy!"

The Slytherin leaned up off of the arm of the couch to smirk at him, leaning back on his hands now. "Foot problem, Potter?" He wiggled his toes teasingly.

Harry scrutinized him, "Actually it's more of a 'you' problem."

Malfoy pursed his lips, somewhat rocking back and forth on his hands. He finally came to a conclusion, "I know what you mean, though. I'm getting quite bored with only you here as well."

Harry jumped on this, "So let's go somewhere or something-"

"Absolutely not." Draco shut him down, flashing him a very demoralizing look. "I told you we're not going out like this, Scarhead. I'd rather not be seen with you in public. I'd rather not be with you at all, for that matter."

Sighing, Harry asked, "So then invite them here?"

Draco nodded curtly. "Very good, Potter, you know how to use your brain. I would never have guessed."

"Prat."

Making a very noncommittal response, Draco reached forward and grabbed Harry's arm so that he could stand freely. "Only Granger and Weasley on your part." He warned as he led the Gryffindor into the bedroom to rummage through his bag (which had found their way into the room before they had gotten there) for quill and ink. "As for me, Pansy and Blaise. Got it?"

Harry pursed his lips, "You know, Malfoy, we will have to face everyone at some point." Draco continued his search, ignoring Harry and his logic pointblank. Instead, he began to scribble a message, tossing Harry parchment as well.

They made brief letters, requesting their friends to join them and relieve them of each other for a few hours after they get out of class, giving them directions and the password for entering the portrait. They were both nearly begging for them to bring as much food as possible. Harry was certain Draco was dreading having to live up to his name and cook that bird, and Harry himself was not willing to taste the outcome.

Harry had almost convinced Draco that they needed to head down to the Owlery when Draco flicked out his wand, casting a neat charm on them to make them zoom around overhead like paper airplanes. Harry connected this to the way Ministry workers send each other notices at work.

"Won't they disturb class, though?" Harry asked, imagining the look on Hermione's face upon realizing she would be partial reason as to why they had to stop class.

Rolling his eyes, Draco informed him, "They can't open doors, Potter. They'll have to wait until class lets out to get to them." Harry was about to comment that it was a brilliant plan, but then he realized he was talking to Malfoy and decided it would be weird to compliment him.

They stood there, back to being very awkward with each other.

"I think we should host an investigation tonight." Harry spoke up before he could stop himself. He had been thinking about it earlier while on the couch. He wanted to check out the area they were attacked in for any form of a clue.

Draco sputtered, "You do realize McGonagall has already done that, right?"

"It can't hurt to check again," Harry explained, leaning against the protruding counter in the kitchen. "I think that it might help uncover memories- being at the scene of the crime."

"I honestly do not think I can uncover more." Draco commented, his eyes focusing on the ground below him. Harry clenched his teeth, desperate to ask how to be able to unlock blocked memories.

Instead, he asked, "How can you tell?"

Draco shot him very sharp daggers. "Because I can."

Harry deadpanned, "Obviously."

They were quiet for a few more minutes before Draco finally spoke up again, "I know for a fact, Potter, that you happen to have taken up Occlumency back in sixth year. I know this because Snape often complained about how much of a dreadful student you were." Harry lifted an eyebrow when Draco looked over toward him poisonously, silently wishing him to continue whilst ignoring the jab. "If you had listened to him, you would have known that the mind is layered."

Draco paused here to make sure Harry was listening, because he sure as hell was not going to repeat himself. "All that the Memory Charm does is add more layers on top of certain parts of the brain you want to cover up. The stronger the charm, the more layers are added."

Harry knitted his eyebrows together, "So then you're saying someone casted the charm twice on you? One weak and the other stronger?"

The blonde rolled his eyes, "Good job, Potter. Would you like a sticker?"

"So then..." Something clicked in Harry's mind, "So we're probably looking for at least two casters, then."

"Most likely," the Slytherin sounded quite bored, as though he had come to this conclusion hours ago. "One who's a good at casting Memory Charms and another who's not."

Harry's green eyes narrowed, "Did you already know this?"

"Obviously," he scoffed, coolly averting his gaze.

Harry tightened his grip around Draco's wrist, suddenly raging, "And why didn't you tell me?" he muttered through his teeth.

Draco flicked his wrist so that he could grab Harry's in turn. "I didn't feel like having you go all 'heroic auror' on me, Potter. You have quite an unhealthy obsession with doing that."

Sputtering a bit, Harry felt the urge to punch the blonde. "Malfoy, I'm trying to find us a way out of this curse-"

"You do realize there are trained, professional aurors to do that, though?" The blonde crossed his arms lethargically. "Ones whom I trust far more than I trust you."

Harry clenched his teeth, nearly ready to bring up the war and how he had destroyed every Horcrux without the help of any aurors.

Draco shook his head of pale blonde hair, "It'll only be a matter of time before they find them."

"And what if we find them first?" Harry pushed himself off of the counter, so that he was now face to face with the Slytherin. He simply rolled his eyes.

"And why do we have to?"

"You do realize that aurors can have twenty different missions at a time, right?" Harry pressured, "It would save them a lot of trouble."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, "Whatever, Potter."

"Fuck you, Malfoy!"

Draco gained a pained expression, closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose before he looked back up to Harry. "Just to let you know, I'm mentally storming out on you right now."

Throwing his hands up in the air, Harry exclaimed, "I would have done that hours ago!"

Draco's hand was pulled from him, so he bitterly pulled it back with storming eyes. They both eyed at the hands as though the action as though it was another challenge to pull at each other again. They looked back at each other, a spark detonating between them instantly.

Almost simultaneously, they dropped it. They both feared it would end like the last time.

Awkward silence again.

'The is really getting old,' Harry thought to himself, leaning back onto the counter again.

A few moments later Harry could practically feel the way Draco had gone sickly pale. He looked up to the blonde, eyebrows knitting again.

"What?" He asked, weary of the way Draco's eyes were bulging.

Too quickly, Draco had looked up at him. Harry flinched. "What?"

"Wh-what's wrong?" Harry asked, now deeply concerned about the fact whatever was bothering Draco could very well effect him too.

"What do you mean? What? Nothing." Draco was speaking way too quickly for this to be the truth.

"You! You're all..." He's all what? "You're all bothered about something!"

"No I'm not." Harry could feel the way Draco's hand was twisting around his wrist nervously.

Judgmentally, Harry narrowed his gaze, unable to keep the worry out of his own voice. "Okay, either tell me now or stop freaking out about it because you're making me freak out."

Draco bit his tongue, bouncing a little on his feet and keeping his eyes far away from Harry's. "We have to..." he trailed lamely. With a new surge of aristocracy, he lifted his head, boring his eyes straight into Harry's as though daring him to object. "I would like to change before my friends get here."

Oh.

_o-O-o_

For those of you who hadn't guess already, there will only be small time skips for now. There's too much sexual tension within the first week or so to skip out on. And I'm a sucker for sexual tension.